For He Was a Mighty Genius and I a Gullible Fox
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: Up to how far can Rukawa go to get Mitsui's number? To submit to Sakuragi's demands? What are these demands? One-shot. RuMit, kinda HanaRu. Rukawa's POV.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Slam Dunk and its characters, Takehiko Inoue does.

Now or never, I had to ask for it. For starters, adequate sleep had been a total stranger to me during those days and, for the life of me, I knew I had to be acquainted with it once again. Besides, all I had to do was dial his number and ask for it.

Why the hell did I want to get things straight over the phone? In all assurances, this sure was cheap, as cheap as breaking up via post-it. But the fact remained that I was the Prince of Ice and I would never stagnate that reputation by doing it in an overt manner. Having said that, wouldn't I be ruining it by calling the ever so malignant Hanamichi Sakuragi?

Just punch the goddamn numbers and everything would be over. In my desperation, I thought it was _that_ easy.

"Hello"

"Hello"

"Who the hell is this?"

"Rukawa"

"Go to hell"

"What's sempai's number?"

"Sempai who, asshole?"

"Mitsui-sempai, do'aho"

"14, baka"

"The landline number, do'aho" There, I thought it was settled.

"Ahaha! And what business do you have with Mitchy, kitsune?" His voice went too loud that I had to disengage the receiver from my ear.

"Nothing."

"I won't give it. Mitchy happens to hold his number as precious as virginity; commoners like you and his fangirls are completely off limits. Bye." He said imperiously. That got me thinking, just when did Mitsui start to hire a bodyguard to protect his privacy?

Oh boy. "I want to play one on one with him." was my lame excuse.

"Don't be a dork, idiot. Why is your ass itching to bring the news to him? Why not ask him tomorrow?" He solicited. What the fuck. Sempai was also my teammate, for crying out loud, so if it so happened I wasn't endowed the privilege to have his stinking number, it should follow no one else wasn't either. And on top of things, what I wanted to tell him was freaking shallow. Or maybe not that shallow.

"…" had he been decreed to uncover the darkest secret that lurked within my cold, cold heart, I would've imitated Ayako's voice and said something like 'April fools!'

"You like him. I saw you; you were watching him while he was taking a shower. Don't lie; I know when a person's horny." He said, with the same malice I could attribute to him whenever his lips would curl into sneer, the sort of which Judas would have been proud of.

Sure as hell, I was in for it. On the bright side, I could just slam the receiver and sprint out of the house and be gone for some time, like forever. Come on. Of all fucking pricks to learn my innermost desire, why did it have to be this retard?

"…" What else could I have said? I could pleasure him with a credible reason, if such were in my disposal, but, hey, I was the Ice Prince; everyone knew I was no good in words! If there was anything that could be gained from trying to reason out with the most vocal person in school, it would most likely be something irretrievably bad. In the first place, was there a point in denying the unfounded accusations he was inflicting against me? He could've roused the whole neighborhood and let everyone know what currently had taken knowledge of. So, all in all, I was in deep shit, if that even needed a special mention.

"Ok, kitsune, here's the deal: I'm _not_ gonna ask you to stop showing-off on court nor do I want you to be out of Shohoku forever. In fact, I want you to spend one night with me. Yes, you heard me, just one night. And you know why you will have to do that for me?"

As it turned out, everyone was a pervert. For the hell of it, I just hoped sempai was lusting over me more than this redhead did.

"For sempai's number." I answered, without as much as a further query about the peculiar deal. Far away from where I was, in a place I liked to call reality, Hanamichi was already in danger of cracking his head against my fist.

"Yes. And because it is not a condition; it's a deal. Know the difference. Never mind. You're too slow. So here it is: if I give you Mitchy's number right now, you will have to call him within five days. If you are not able to do that, you will come to my house on the 6th day and spend the night with me."

There was a pause. I was quite sure I'd get to call Mitsui and tell him how I felt. Yes, at least my confidence could assure me that much. But when I was finally facing the possibilities, I realized it wasn't as easy as I had been of late made to expect. Even so, it was easier than sleeping with Sakuragi, so,

"Deal."

"Okay, it's 141-1101. See you 6 days from now, kitsune." He said merrily and hung up.

I stared at Mitsui's number for a good three minutes and ended up slipping it in my drawer. I'd do it tomorrow, naturally.

Practice had come sooner than what was good for me. To my confusion, Sakuragi was acting as though nothing had happened. Nevertheless, I thought of confessing to Mitsui right there and then. But despite my recently acquired courage, I couldn't put my plans to action.

The second day came, which was a complete carbon copy of what happened in the day that preceded it. Sakuragi wasn't showing any trace that we had an unnerving conversation a few days back. He wasn't my primary concern, though. In truth, I was willing to sleep with him if it meant having Mitsui for a boyfriend.

Third day. I was insane enough to grab the receiver and punch the first four numbers. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, third days were always not for anyone. Whatever that meant. I always thought the number three was an unlucky number.

On the fourth day, I realized that if I didn't do it on that day, someone might snatch **my** Mitsui from me. I noticed that he and Kogure-sempai were exceedingly close to each other. Faced with a daunting rival, I knew I had to create a barrier. Just when Glassman was offering my Hisashi a massage, I passed a ball to the latter to commence a one on one game. That didn't work, because after I allowed his victory, he collapsed in the corner and there came the vice-captain, ready to relax his muscles and caress every inch of him. I rode home, feeling as though someone had stolen a million bucks from me.

Came the fifth day, I was as exhausted as the fox in some fable I read back in grade school; forgot the title. I remembered the author, though. He was Greek. Must be Ovid, if not Virgil. Or maybe it's Homer. In any case, I walked up to Mitsui with a mindset which went like, I had to do it or else tomorrow would mark the end of my good days.

"Sempai, can I have a—" I wasn't able to finish because the redhead devil had just pulled him away from me, for a very obvious reason. This, of course, only aggravated my anxiety. But then I realized all I wanted to tell him was; 'Can I call you later?'. What the hell. Was there even a need for that shit? That was it for me. I would have to call him when I get home.

And there I was sitting on a chair, staring blankly at the phone at 11 in the evening. I reached for the phone and withdrew my hand 14 times. Had anyone seen me, he would have been sure about the alienation of my sanity.

Why the fuck couldn't I do it? It was as easy as punching his numbers, ask for Hisashi Mitsui, say 'hello, I love you', and poof; we would be as merry and gay as Christmas.

The clock struck 12. The fateful fifth day had just melted away. My phone rang. I didn't notice it until its 8th ring.

"Hello, Rukawa." it was Sakuragi.

"Hey"

"So have you called Mitchy?" He asked.

"…yeah, uh, I think so." I lied hesitatingly. I was sure he didn't notice the awkwardness I was demonstrating amply because my voice was still as cold as ice even in a hellish situation such as now.

"We'll see about that…" He said warningly and was about to put the phone down when,

"I didn't. I'm not going tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah? How would you like me to say it to Mitchy for you? Perhaps he'd welcome you with open arms." It was a threat, else my name wasn't Rukawa.

Alright, it had to be admitted that he had all the power to let everyone know of my desire for sempai. Equipped with that much authority, he was, after all, not really the simpleton I had taken him to be.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." I finally said to end the conversation. Needless even to mention, I was in deep shit.

Next day

There I stood in front of the Sakuragi residence. I couldn't hear anything from the outside, which indicated his parents must be away. I sighed twice to commence my despair. I asked myself if Mitsui would ever be mine after what was to take place that afternoon. At any rate, I knocked on the door.

"Hey, Rukawa, you've come!" Sakuragi said, looking absolutely delighted, leading me to the living room. My mouth almost gaped open when I saw my teammates, except Mitsui, crowded in his house. What the fuck was the meaning of all this?

Everyone greeted me as I stepped in. Apparently, they were all watching a movie, that was why I couldn't hear anything while standing at the doorstep.

They were all very absorbed with the film, for some ungodly reason. Sakuragi asked me to follow him upstairs, to which I obliged without argument to avoid a scene. In some respects, somehow I was glad Mitsui was nowhere to be found.

We reached the door to his bedroom, and as he grabbed the doorknob, he stopped to say,

"Go in. Inside you'll find what you've been dying for." He said, with a wink a which spoke of many intents and purposes which simply eluded me. I was so puzzled by what he said that I just stared at him. He turned to leave without another word.

I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. And there he was, Hisashi Mitsui, lying in Sakuragi's bed, sleeping soundlessly. My mouth must have dropped open. Why would Sakuragi go through pestering me to spend one night with him when all he intended was to let me have Mitsui? Had the devil filed his horn?

Mitsui stirred slightly. At last, he opened his eyes. At first I hesitated to make another move, but no sooner than I regained my composure did his eyes dart towards me.

"Oh, hi Rukawa." He greeted with a slight confusion. I nodded in return. I could hardly take my eyes off him, what with his looks indicating that no amount of sleep could dishevel his beauty.

I reached for the doorknob and made a motion to leave, but he called out,

"Wait, uh, can you, uh, have a seat? Perhaps you'd like to talk, and they're watching Seven Samurai downstairs— it's boring, filled with hot but not-handsome-guys- er, what I meant was, would you?" In spite of his incoherence and my confusion, I decided to grab a chair to save him from further stuttering. So much for the effort because one second later I found myself staring out the window, for lack of a better use I could employ with my mouth.

But confusing as things were, he asked of me to stay. How odd things were to get, I couldn't have predicted.

I didn't speak for a few minutes. He probably was feeling very uncomfortable, for I had been staring at him meaningfully. I couldn't help it. Come on, that was the first time I got so close to him, except during practice. Should I waste a moment such as this?

I didn't know exactly how it happened, but the moment I tore my eyes from him he just reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. I looked at him, and he flashed his drop-dead-pretty smile, making my knees turn to jelly.

What the hell. If he were straight, he wouldn't have gotten that hot over me, so…I pulled his neck and kissed him to compensate for the long months that I had been lusting over him. He didn't push me away, which only meant he had been ogling over my kick-ass foxy physique for I dunno how many months. Christ, I could go to hell hopping around with great joy.

But before our little activity ended, a flash of an almost blinding light illuminated the entire room for a quarter of a second. I disentangled myself from Mitsui, only to be greeted by Hanamichi Sakuragi who was standing at the doorway.

It wasn't so much of a surprise, though; he brought me there in the first place. What would a couple of hormone-driven boys do in a bedroom, for Christ's sake, stare at each other 'til the sun went down?

It wasn't really a big deal, or at least not _until_ my eyes caught the Polaroid camera in his right hand and the 4x5 photo on the other. And I could just die right then and there before my teammates downstairs start to howl with laughter with what Sakuragi got.

-END

A/N: Dedicated to Night Strider. Pardon me for the grammatical errors.


End file.
